


Challenge

by Alie33



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Female-Centric, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Kick-ass Women of S.H.I.E.L.D., Nick Fury Knows All, Undercover Missions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-31 07:41:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3969610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alie33/pseuds/Alie33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Clint Barton brought her in to be an agent, Natasha Romanoff made few friends at S.H.I.E.L.D. - but Melinda May was one of them. This is the story of how it happened.</p>
<p> Just FYI, there's not a lot of Clint in this, a couple of scenes with Bobbi, and only a name check of Maria Hill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Challenge

 When Natasha Romanoff first joined S.H.I.E.L.D., she was prepared for a lack of acceptance. Most of the agency had heard of her as an anonymous assassin, someone they’d failed to stop time and again. The fact that (to her knowledge), she had never killed a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent was simply down to the fact she had never been assigned to do so. But when Barton found her, she was at her lowest - the barrel of her gun pointed at a target she knew she would never be able to bring herself to shoot. When he aimed his bow at her she was almost glad for the reprieve, the excuse to fail, and when she turned to face him she was ready for that arrow to find its mark in her heart (he was famous too, the man with a bow and arrow, and she knew he would not miss). But instead, he had seen something in her eyes, and made her an offer. Barely out of her teens, knowing she would never again be an assassin but possessed of a skill set ill-suited to much else, she had taken him up on it, and returned with him to S.H.I.E.L.D.

It took a long while for Fury and Hill to accept her. Maria Hill was, at the time, in charge of the intake of new agents (those who didn’t go through any of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s academies, that was), and Barton had to run his ‘idea’ to recruit her by Hill first - though with Natasha standing right there, the conversation was decidedly awkward. Natasha had had to consent to a tracking chip being implanted (she was reassured it was on a temporary basis, and, after proving herself several times over, Fury kept his promise and removed it), and Barton was assigned to remain with her at all times. She was also aware that he had orders to take her out if it ever became necessary - and she knew he would do so without hesitation if she turned; it was his decision to bring her in, after all, and therefore he would feel completely responsible for any betrayal on her part.

 In those first few months, the only time she was out of his sight was when they slept (and they shared a room in the Hub, so she was only ‘out of his sight’ then in the most literal sense), or when she was in the bathroom. Twice she was jumped in the ladies room by angry agents who felt she shouldn’t be there, and twice she took every one of them down (but not out). She never spoke a word against those who accused her of evil - she had a lot of red in her ledger, after all. But, over time, hostility became admiration. A lot of this was down to Fury’s (admittedly genius) idea to make Romanoff and Barton the organisation’s emergency extraction team: Strike Team Delta. Rescuing agent after agent from incredibly hairy situations was a good way to swing popular opinion in her favour, and she even began to forge some relationships outside of Clint Barton.

After two years of missions, and rarely being more than 100 yards from Hawkeye, Natasha was permitted to move out of the Hub and into her own place - though she often gave a wave to the surveillance team assigned to watch her - Nick Fury’s trust was not earned easily. Natasha was well aware that multiple years of deep cover would be child’s play for ‘Black Widow’, and did not resent him for his caution.

A year after that, with her tracking chip removed and a having saved a high number of agents personally, the whispers that followed whenever she entered a S.H.I.E.L.D. base were no longer hostile in nature, but instead usually involved bets about which agents she would be able to take in a fight. Natasha’s joining S.H.I.E.L.D. had come at a time when they were upping their recruitment of females into Ops (the world was changing, but ultimately women were still better suited to being underestimated by S.H.I.E.L.D.’s enemies), but it was known there were few who could match the infamous Black Widow. However, there were two names that frequently popped up - Bobbi Morse, and Melinda May.

 

***

 

 Natasha’s first encounter with Mockingbird did not go so well. Morse, she knew, once had an intimate relationship with Barton, one which Natasha had severely interrupted after Clint brought her in and was assigned to keep track of her. So when they made eye contact in the newly built Triskelion, and Bobbi headed for the sparring area, Natasha had sighed, and followed.

 “You know, this isn’t personal.” Bobbi spoke as she hung her battle staves on the wall. Her words were light, but her eyes were hard.

 “If you like, you can keep hold of those.” Natasha offered in reply, her tone carefully neutral. Bobbi flashed her a look, one that suggested to Nat that Mockingbird’s respect for her had dialled up a notch. Still, she deliberately left the staves where they were as she stepped onto the mats.

 They circled briefly before Bobbi went on the attack. She had a height advantage, but unlike Bobbi, Natasha’s preferred fighting style was hand-to-hand, and since her opponents were frequently male she was used to looking up at people before she took them down.

 Nat fended off Bobbi’s first few blows, but a feint towards her head was followed by a blow to the stomach that landed hard. Natasha was impressed - it had been a long time since someone had winded her so thoroughly. But she was trained to push through almost anything, and she recovered quickly, going on her own offensive.

 Kicks and punches were traded almost too fast for the crowd to see. Money changed hands more than once as the fight continued, but, ultimately, Black Widow won out. A swift takedown with her legs to Bobbi’s neck ended things. There were many cheers, and a few disappointed groans.

Nat stepped back and Bobbi sat up, but remained on the mats. The crowd began to disperse, and Natasha stepped over and held out a hand to the other woman.

 “You’re good, you know.” It wasn’t a question - she knew Mockingbird was aware of her own skills, “I was recruited as a child, and the whole point of the program I was forced into was to break me, or turn me into, well, what I am now.” Natasha paused. She had kept her voice low to avoid any of those who were lingering hearing - it was the most she had spoken of her past to anyone other than Barton. “If you had been in that same program, I imagine I would be the one on the mats.” It was as gracious as Natasha got, under the circumstances.

 “We are not friends.” Bobbi replied, standing under her own power. Then, almost reluctantly, she added, “But if you teach me how to do that takedown, maybe we could get there.” Natasha gave a slow smile.

 

***

 

 They trained together for a while after that, Natasha insisting that Bobbi use her staves, which gave her a bigger challenge than when the taller woman was bare-handed. But while they sometimes went all out, the purpose of their sparring was to learn from each other, and they both did so. During one of their first sessions, their conversation turned to Barton.

 “You know, it’s only ever been friendship.” Nat spoke as she swept Bobbi’s legs. Bobbi jumped it and swung a stave down - Natasha stepped upwards into the swing and blocked it, “He’s basically like my annoying big brother who I could take out.” Bobbi gave Natasha a skeptical glance at those words, coupled with a blow aimed at Nat’s head, “Seriously,” Nat spoke again as she side-stepped, before kicking Bobbi in the ribs, “I owe him for bringing me into S.H.I.E.L.D., and after spending over a year basically in each other’s pockets, it was either get close or kill each other,” a rapid series of blows between them followed that statement, “which is still an option.”

 The fight stopped by mutual agreement - the pair had only been training together for a just over a week, but were good enough at reading each other to know when to call it.

 “Well, things between the two of us were breaking down before you showed up.” Bobbi tossed over her shoulder as she walked over to the bench. She sat, took up a water bottle and had a long drink, “I suppose you just hastened the inevitable. Besides, there’s this guy I keep running into in the field. He’s a merc, but one of the better ones out there. Gorgeous accent too.”

 Natasha stepped over and took a seat next to her, before taking the other water bottle. After a few gulps she put it down, then turned to Bobbi and made a face.

 “Is this girl talk?” Bobbi looked back at her pensively for a few seconds.

 “You know, I think it is.” There was another short silence, where the expression on both of their faces became steadily more perturbed. Natasha spoke first.

 “Let’s not do this again.”

 “Agreed.” And they abruptly stood from the bench and went their separate ways.

 The two continued to train together when both were in each other’s vicinity, but, both being spies for an international organisation, this was a fairly rare occurrence. They never truly became friends, but there was mutual respect between them, and a willingness to share innovative fighting techniques. Occasionally the two of them and Clint would go out drinking, where Clint would talk about the new girlfriend he was enamoured with (Laura, the woman who he would eventually marry, and who Natasha couldn’t help but fall for a little bit too - Laura was a sweetheart), and Bobbi would complain about Hunter - her English mercenary beau who she swung between adoring and wanting to kill. Natasha very deliberately stayed single (though she was not adverse to the odd one-nighter), so she mostly listened, often sporting a wry grin.

 

***

 

 It was when Barton decided to marry Laura and leave the field for a while, that Natasha first met The Cavalry. At the time, the woman had not yet embarked on the mission that earned her the title, but the name Melinda May was big enough around S.H.I.E.L.D. that Natasha was wary.

 Like Bobbi (and any good agent), May scanned the room as soon as she entered The Hub, and, like Bobbi, she quickly made eye contact with the Black Widow. Natasha was expecting the next few moments to be similar too, as May immediately headed towards her. The rest of the agents surrounding them watched, muttering and nudging each other - a few hands went to pockets as the room anticipated an answer to one of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s most frequently debated theoretical match-ups. May stopped in front of Natasha, and examined her carefully.

 “You’re favouring your left.” 

 “Had to make a hasty exit in Milan recently.” Natasha replied, suitably impressed that May had noticed. She did not make a habit of advertising her injuries. May nodded.

 “There’s a question a lot of people want answered… but I don’t really feel the need to know. Besides, with one of us injured, there’s little point.”

 “The line of work we’re in, the odds of one of us _not_ being injured are fairly slim.” Natasha deliberately left the statement open-ended. She’d had far worse wounds, and if May was demurring simply to wait for a time when Natasha was fully healthy, then Natasha would rather just get it over with.

 “Want to get a drink?” The whole Hub seemed to be collectively holding their breath. After a moment, a rare, full-blown grin crossed Natasha’s face.

 “Sure. I know a great place.” The two of them walked away, and a large number of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents immediately began pretending they had expected it, and that they weren’t returning each other’s money.

 

***

 

 That evening the two agents realised they had a lot in common. Neither were big talkers, but both enjoyed, on occasion, a good night out. They had also both trained in combat from a very young age - though May’s training, mandated by her mother, was far less brutal (of course, almost anything would be less brutal than Natasha’s childhood). May’s mother had been firm, but fair, and was not going to let her only daughter out into a world full of dangers without the ability to protect herself. Luckily for Lian May, Melinda took to martial arts almost immediately, and, other than a rebellious period in her teens when she ducked out of her lessons (one which ended very quickly when her mother found out), she had fully immersed herself into learning as many disciplines as she could.

 “You know, May, I’m almost sorry you didn’t walk straight to the gym earlier.” Natasha’s competitive side, oft suppressed, was beginning to show itself as she traded May shot for shot. The vodka was a high-quality Russian brand (the only kind she drank), and May continued to impress Natasha with her ability to hold her liquor.

 “I meant it when I said I don’t need that question answered.” May replied, “I also meant it when I said I wouldn’t fight you while injured.”

 “I’ve fought through a lot worse.”

 “So have I, but that’s not exactly the point.” Nat nodded.

 “The point would be to decide who’s better.” May chuckled at Nat’s words.

 “And you and I both know we’d probably have to inflict some serious damage on each other before we’d know the answer. I prefer to save it for the real bad guys.” And with those words, Nat decided that she and Melinda May would be friends. Because Melinda May was awesome.

 “To saving it for the bad guys!” Nat lifted her glass and toasted. Melinda lifted her own, clinked them, and threw back the shot.

 Later that night, somewhat worse for wear, they both got to see that toast through when they were jumped on the way back to May’s home. The three men who tried it had immediate cause to regret it, and thirty seconds later Mel and Nat were on their way again, singing the Superman theme slightly off-key as they went. May paused, and grabbed Nat’s arm.

 “We should probably call the police.” Natasha frowned, concentrating on her next words.

 “Did… did you bring a burner? Because otherwise they might have some questions.” May nodded and pulled it out of her pocket.

 “I would so win - you’re not even prepared enough to have a burner!” May leaned into Natasha, laughing. Nat pushed her away, and May almost stumbled into the road. Peering down at the phone, she dialled 911, “Police? Yeah, three men just tried to attack us. They’re on the sidewalk and still breathing, which, if you knew who ‘us’ was, you’d be surprised by. Anyway, I’m gonna leave the phone with them so you can trace it, because I have _no_ idea where we are.” Not responding to the confused voice on the other end of the line, May carefully wiped off the phone with her top, and chucked it back towards the bodies. It hit one of them with a thump, and he groaned. “Ha! Ten points!” Natasha laughed.

 “Ok May, time to go.”

 “Ok. But we have to be quiet when we get there, because my husband will be asleep.” Those words stopped Nat in her tracks.

 “You’re married?” May turned and gave Natasha an insulted glare.

 “What? You don’t think anyone would marry me? I’m gorgeous!” Natasha giggled a little at Mel’s indignation, and that was when she knew she really was hammered - Black Widow did _not_ giggle.

 “You’re just so… You’re Melinda May.”

 “And you’re Natasha Romanoff, AKA the Black Widow. Doesn’t mean you can’t get married.” Those words were like a bucket of ice water. Nat knew there was no chance of anything as ordinary as married life for her. May seemed to notice the change in demeanour, and, slowly, cautiously, she put an arm around the younger woman. They remained that way for the rest of the walk.


End file.
